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Wednesday, November 9, 2011

“There will always be moments in life when I stand at the end of an experience, look back, and wonder how the hell I got myself into such a beautiful situation.”

~

November. The weirdest thing to me about November is that sudden shift when the sky is enveloped in blackness by mid afternoon. It may also be for that reason that I'm having such a hard time finding my feet again after finishing Veera's teacher training this last weekend. I am a creature to loves and thrives on routine, but get me off my roller coaster, and it's a challenge to try and figure out how to clamber back onto something that's still going fifty miles an hour.

Last month I wrote about connecting with our story of origin, and I feel like I'm still on a similar track. But not so far back. I want to talk about the importance of saying yes to yourself, and the powerful wisdom in thanking who you were three months ago, six months ago, a year ago, ten years ago.

Between three and six months ago, I planted a kernel in my brain that would lead to me feeling more unstable than I have in a long time. That's what happens when we start to dig, whether it be looking in the metaphoric mirror, or hanging out in half pigeon, wondering how our hip joints could be so much like legos mummified in plastic wrap.

Now? Insecurity. Completely uncomfortable to the point where my skin itches and my body feels anxious like there's miles of energy compressed inside my muscles and my bones, and it's a GOOD thing. I'm 'suffering' from what I like to call creative constipation. I go so long without expressing myself in a creative way that I eventually reach a point where when I try to get back into it, I notice how much unnameable stuff is shoving a battering ram against my heart, trying to break through a rusty lock.

So I would like to take the time and thank my former self, three to six months ago, for saying yes. Saying yes to taking that left turn that led my path here. In honor of that former self, I opened up a folder from a chapter in my life where I wrote some form of creative writing once a day without fail. Sometimes you take a look at a thing you produced a long time ago, and in that moment it's a gift to yourself in the present. Exactly three years ago, I wrote something I needed to hear right now.

Namaste, my beautiful yogis. I am thankful for each and every one of you. I challenge you, and encourage you, to say yes. Start this new day with vigor.

What is Twisting Open, Sinking In?

Often in yoga we are told that what we practice on the mat translates to our everyday life. Yet there are so many sensations and ideas that come up (and sometimes hit us on the head with a two-by-four), that we may not get the chance to really reflect and talk about how these experiences and changes manifest themselves in our lives. Just as we deepen our twists to open our hearts and sink deeper into the pose, Twisting Open, Sinking In aims to explore the experiences of the important practice we call Everyday Life.